


Hear Me, Cure Me

by ashes0909



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Magic, Pining, Telepathic Steve Rogers, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22407274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909
Summary: Steve’s eyes shot open to an onslaught of noise.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 15
Kudos: 186
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2019





	Hear Me, Cure Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Robin_tCJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Robin_tCJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/pseuds/Robin_tCJ) in the [stony_stocking_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2019) collection. 



> This is for Robin who provided an amazing prompt that I included in the end notes. I hope you enjoy your stocking!

The box sparked in their hands and both of them dropped it, shattering it on the floor of the cave. A blue mist broke from the pieces running up and intertwining with their legs. “Don’t--” Steve was about to warn Tony not to breathe in but opening his mouth caused the mist to run down his throat. When he looked up with shocked eyes, he saw the same was happening to Tony.

The blue mist entered Tony’s lungs with a hitched breath of surprise, and he fixed his gaze on Steve. “Fuck.”

_ Twelve Hours Later _

Steve’s eyes shot open to an onslaught of noise, so much noise, more than he’d ever heard in the Compound, much more than he ever heard in his entire life. And around him there was no one to be seen. His heartbeat picked up, racing wild in his chest, because he wasn’t hearing the strung along words of a person speaking to him in full sentences, but the chopped up fragments of…

He bolted out of bed, throwing on the sweatpants and a t-shirt he’d tossed by the bed last night and ran out into the hallway. 

_ Food. Cereal? Oatmeal? Cereal. Coffee--Latte girl from down the street. Steve. _ “Hey Cap,” Sam said with a nod as he walked past Steve on his way to the kitchen. 

Steve followed, scratching his own head and trying to push back the thought that something was very wrong. He followed Sam into the kitchen waving at  _ Leaving tomorrow. Fuel, then sleep _ Natasha and turning towards the coffee maker. 

_ Could that shirt be any thinner? Hot. Pecs. Nipple right through it. The Cap armor needs a layer. Thicker, more durable. Protect those pecs.  _ Tony pushed away from the espresso maker and Steve couldn’t help but stare at him as he did. Were those Tony’s thoughts...about him? On autopilot, he blindly reached for the pot of drip coffee, with his focus still on Tony.

_ Widow. Mission. Bites up to date. Send her extra charges.  _ Steve watched Tony pivot around her and slide in the seat at the table across from Sam.  _ Bite Bullets? Could work _ .  _ Maybe. _

As he listened to Tony, reality settled back in, because under the layer of generous genius was the fact that he was hearing everyone's thoughts and that was actually a bit of an issue. He should probably tell someone. But Steve also couldn’t help but notice that the person he’d go to was currently brainstorming how to help everyone else. Steve had never really known, even though he’d benefited countless times from the way Tony helped everyone else around him. 

It hit Steve all at once that he wasn’t the only one that had been hit by the magic.  _ Tony? Can you hear me? _ But the man in front of him didn’t react at all, continuing his conversation instead. Perhaps a reaction with the superserum? He must’ve been staring for too long because Tony’s thoughts broke through his own.

_ Pretty. Could get used to those blue eyes on me. Still. Looking? Adorably gobsmacked. Lips open, what I could do with those.  _ Steve wasn’t sure if he'd heard correctly. He couldn’t have, that was obscene and...Tony flirted with everyone. But he only seemed to think-flirt with Steve and shook his head and quickly turned away.

_ Huh, _ he heard Tony think but that was all. Steve took a long sip of his coffee, pasted a smile on his face and turned back to the others, grabbing an apple and muffin off the assortment of food on the island. He managed to get through the rest of their breakfast without making a complete fool of himself. And when he rushed out the door, the last thought he heard was Tony’s favorable opinions of his ass. It was one uncomfortably seconded and thirded by Natasha and, surprisingly, Sam.

Steve returned to his room and decided it was the only part of the Compound he needed to visit for the rest of the day. The evening passed with thoughts of Tony. It wasn’t unusual, which in and of itself was disconcerting. But where he used to think of Tony strategically, as a teammate and a partner in stopping crime, now he was thinking about Tony thinking about Steve’s lips. He bit his own lip, crossing his legs against his comforter and throwing his mystery novel aside. A flip had switched, and Steve knew in his gut and from the burning arousal further south, that it would not flip back. 

Tony thought about him like  _ that _ , genuinely.

It was all he could think about, until it sparked another idea, forming in the shadows, tinged with shame: he could go seek Tony out and hear more of his thoughts. 

Guilt was like a cold bucket of water pouring over his head, and he banished the thought, ripped it to shreds. He would not and could not invade his friend's privacy thought way. Picking up the mystery novel, he forced himself to focus on the words. 

Steve lasted a day. 

When he finally left his room again, it was to go to Tony. But  _ not _ with the motive of hearing his thoughts. He needed to see the man because he was, in fact, hearing thoughts, and since Bruce had gone AWOL, Tony was their resident genius. 

Walking through the Compound, he expected to find Tony in his workshop, but through the windowed walls he only saw the dark silhouettes of his equipment and the outline of sleeping bots. He wandered over to the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Pushing the door and heading outside, he heard Tony’s car long before his thoughts. When he did hear those, they were screaming joy to the tune of the gunning motor. Steve smiled wide at his happiness, lifting his hand to block the sun and get a better view of the man speeding by. He made a few more laps around the winding driveway before finally coming to a stop before Steve. “Come here often?” he asked as he rolled down the window. “Up for speedway Saturday?” he followed up with lowered sunglasses.  _ Say yes, say yes, say. _

“Yes,” Steve said, trying to keep the astonishment from his tone. The thought that Tony cared so much, it wasn’t one he could easily wrap his head around. He slid into the car, its low floor making his legs bend high at the knee. 

_ Herculean proportions. Biceps. Come on Stark, focus _ . 

Steve looked out the window, and tried to pretend things made sense. He probably should be telling Tony he needed some tests run, but instead he held on as Tony pressed the gas pedal down hard. They immediately went flying and the steady,  _ weeeee! _ that Steve heard was matching the one in his own mind. It was almost impossible to focus on anything else through the exhilarating speed. 

They made one lap, and then another, Tony flicking a glance at Steve, and his thoughts changed.  _ Bright, beautiful eyes. Want to kiss them. _

Steve blushed, he couldn’t help it.  _ That blush. Fuck. I need to slow down this car. No. Speed it up. _ Steve gripped tight against the door handle before Tony pushed his foot down this time. Tony stared at his hand, then back up at Steve’s face, eyes narrow.  _ Impossible. Impossible? Nothing’s impossible. New variables? Variables? Variables. . . . fuck. Every sexy thought. Fuck fuck. Variables. Variables. He’s still here, though. Counts for something. Variables...the blue smoke! Really? _

“Really.” 

Tony’s jaw dropped. His mind short circuited, sparking between the reality of this improbability and the fact that Steve finally knew how he felt. 

“How do you feel?” Steve asked, unable to help himself, far too invested in the answer. 

Tony’s eyes dropped to his lips, and Steve didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was asking. 

“Yes,” Steve answered. 

_ Yes! _ Tony cheered, and Steve laughed, leaning forward so he could wrap a hand around Tony’s cheek. “After, we should probably run some tests,” he whispered, words brushing against Steve’s lips before closing the space between them. 

_ Fuck, Steve. The way you taste. Fantasy doesn’t compare.  _

Steve gasped in his mouth at the admission, making Tony chuckle and Steve wanted more, tried to grasp for more of Tony, reach for him, bring him in his lap. Tony’s thoughts mirrored his own, but it was Tony who pulled back. “I had no idea you were interested.”

“I learned a lot about both of us today.” Steve leaned back in, but Tony’s hand on his chest made him pause. 

Tony laughed. “We should probably figure out the telepathy cure, before moving this along.”  _ Permanent? Science or Magic? Tests. Fuck Steve, your lips, so pink. _

“Yeah,” Steve breathed. “I guess you’re right. Always trying to help…” Steve shook his head. “Cure first?”

_ Then Kissing _ .

“You bet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Just friends until one of them suddenly becomes telepathic, and falls in love and starts pining.


End file.
